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IX

by Absinthius

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1.
"I am the way to the city of woe I am the way to eternal pain I endure forever Abandon all hope you who enter here"
2.
Beneath the gate of doom; Through the portal to the land of pain. My passage paved between the plains of fate. No stratosphere above. Nothing of the stars. The void obscured by murk as thick as oil. My perceptions assaulted By the stink and the howls. I cowered at the maw of Abaddon. Hordes of cursed spirits Sprinting left and right Never a moment of respite. Through streaks And clots of blood I glimpsed the whites of eyes And tongues in mouths ajar In frenzied screams. The chase was made By swarms of angry vespids; Stings and jaws stained claret. The sap that oozed From penetrated skin Fell heavy to the ground Nectar to sate The pulsing mass Of ravenous worms With gaping gullets. Feeding frenzy. Eternal torment in the Valley of Insects Blood on the shores of Acheron. The suffering beneath, I feared, Would drive my soul to crave That I could be the fare of wasps and worms.
3.
Fly. Fall. A swirling maelstrom stretches Between two distant shores; An ocean of the sour tears Of concubines and whores. The Tides of Aphrodisia; The ever-wretched surge; A cesspool of the wanton sins Of malefactors purged. The fury of the air above Has never known respite. It thrashes and it lurches In a sky of ceaseless night. Swayed by sins of flesh in life, The fervent are condemned To soar upon the tempest In discord that knows no end. Fuck. Slaves unto the power of the wind. From North to South they heave, Dismembered by colliding limbs. Their desperate crying muffled By the tumultuous winds. As leaves in Autumn shatter, So do their brittle bones; The salacious adulterers Trapped within cyclones. Fly.
4.
5.
Vile Deluge 03:42
Clouds of filth throb overhead, Weeping tears of muck. Veins of lightning fracture the air And thunder snarls in the black. From horizon to the void, Sickly fields of glut; Simmering marshes of virulence, Eternal pools of slush. At a glance, they resemble not men, but beasts, Wallowing in their own waste. Swine of Sheol, drowning in discharge, Dehumanized and debased. No pity for the ravenous. No pity for the voracious. Eyeless bovine piled three-deep in the mud, Each only aware of himself. Sightless, abandoned, they suffer alone, Forever consuming the smut. Upon a carpet of their bloated corpses Strides the Wolf. The abhorrent Behemoth; Hydra Bitch of Gluttony. Heads are cleaved from spines And pulpous flesh is ripped away. Limbless torsos slosh In mounds of suppurating meat. Six eyes scour the rotten mess; Claws and teeth destroy. The beast of the third circle; Bloodthirst incarnate. All fear Cerberus; Fear the Great Worm; Triad of hounds; The canine malevolent.
6.
7.
Of tears and pain and filth A blackened current gushes hence. It seeps beneath the surface Of the barren soil. Spreads amongst the valleys, Turns the ground to liquid rot. Behold, the tendrils Of the vile Stygian Marsh. Here, the wrathful Rend each other limb from limb. They grapple to the death In frenzied fits of violence. The sullen choke on sludge And swallow putrescence below. The seething of their sighs Evokes a foam upon the moor. Gargling hymns of sloth Inside their gullets, they repent. Above the sprawling bog, The walls of Dis loom high. The gate to Lower Hell Forever shut to all but ghosts. Atop the ancient monolith Four vulgar witches perch. The Furies and Medusa; Shrieking demons of the swamp. Possessed by paroxysms They lament against the Gods. With gruesome talons tear The scaly skin from their own chests. The city of woe awaits.
8.
9.
Hark! The Pompous Tyrant Casts the Heretics to Hell. Supremacy hidden by a mask of purity. "O Lord, we beg; Spare our souls from suffering." The throne of light Adorned in thorns. The wired jaw Of the free thinking man. The netherward spiral Is pockmarked with tombs. The punishment for wisdom Is six feet of flames. Oh, what an ironic Deity to revere. Who lies through His Left Hand And smites with a white-knuckled fist. Praise be. He opens His arms To the wandering lamb. The promise of the shepherd As hollow as their skulls. His staff is a scythe At the mark of the goat. Forgive Me. For I was once callow; I followed your flock My sin was naivety; For this I repent. Dethrone, dethrone, Dethrone the counterfeit King. I bathe in fire and brimstone And the Book of Lies burns with me. I would rather pledge my death to the Beast Than waste a lifetime in the service of deceit. Set my pyre in the circle of the sane. May the Archfiend reign.
10.
Seething; The violent boil in a river of blood. Blistered skin, disfigured faces; Seared flesh Pulled from bone by the ruby tide. Hooves on the banks; Ten thousand beasts. Bolts rain down On the flailing wraiths. Woe for the warlords. Misery for murderers. Unforgiving is the Blade of Justice. The helicoid corridor loops on itself Southward the current flows A crimson ring encircling the dismal wood. Demi-human screams; Winged banshees swoop and dive Between the onyx leaves. Rabid mongrels weave Through noxious briars And twisted trees. Press your ear against the mangled skin Hear the murmuring within Suicides shed their bodies for eternity Rip the bark from the limb Sanguine resin seeps upon the soil; Anchoring their serpentine roots. Bleed Violence and hate. The inward facing blade. Here hang your noose upon the boughs. Choke On violence and hate. The outward shining scorn. Here hang your shell amongst the thorns. And then beyond the fringe of the forest. A chasm in the sky. A torrent of flames upon the molten earth. Spit upon the face of God. "Like the rest, we shall fetch our empty skins But we will never put them on again We shall trail our bodies here To be hung upon the trees of this most dismal wood Each on the thorns of its tormented shade"
11.
12.
13.
"Look, here is Dis The emperor of that realm of despair towered above the ice One head wearing three faces Two wings spread from under each He wept from all six eyes Down all three chins poured tears that mingled with a bloody foam All sorrow may well issue from Him."

about

After five years in the shadows, a dark horse of the New Zealand metal scene emerges in Melbourne, Australia under the guise of "Absinthius". His debut solo-album "IX" is a ferocious aural assault and a vividly illustrated journey into the lowest circle of Hell, themed entirely on "Inferno" from "The Divine Comedy" by Dante Alighieri. This masterfully crafted composition is a swirling maelstrom of mind-melting intricacy, showcasing skin-blistering speed and technicality. Riffs of lumbering sludge and spine-severing slam are cut by a bleak ambiance and passages of droning symphonic interludes. Guest artist Josh Sagar delivers a phenomenally blood-curdling vocal performance throughout the album, wickedly incarnating the demonic voices of the underworld.

"IX" delivers a nostalgic overview of the evolution of modern metal over the last nine years, containing the bones of songs written for a catalogue of projects and collaborations, fused seamlessly with a deluge of all new material. Vocal lines were recorded by Lewis Noke-Edwards over numerous sessions at SAE in South Melbourne.

Godfrey Atlantis superbly illustrates the beasts and minions of the Inferno with astonishing digital artwork, brought to life in print and available only with the Limited Edition Compact Disc (50 copies only).

This behemoth of a record is best experienced in its entirety through quality headphones, on a dark and stormy night, accompanied by a bottle of absinthe and a roaring fire...

credits

released June 6, 2016

Music and lyrics by Paul Blomfield
Vocals by Josh Sagar
Vocals recorded by Lewis Noke-Edwards at SAE South Melbourne
Mixed and Mastered by Paul Blomfield

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Absinthius Melbourne, Australia

Extreme Metal
from
Melbourne, Australia

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